


Something

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-04-04
Updated: 2008-04-04
Packaged: 2019-05-30 13:35:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15097730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: A series of odd moments leads to sexy revelations. J/D





	Something

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

_Something in the way she moves_

_And all I have to do is think of her_

_Something in the way she woos me_

_Don’t wanna leave her now_

_You know I believe, and how..._

-The Beatles

*

Something happened when he looked at her then, in the sudden heat of that moment, while they loitered in the bullpen after the First Lady’s birthday party.

"I’m going home," Donna had said just as always, gathering files and slipping them into her bag, pink dress drifting behind her. Arms against the doorframe, Josh lingered, watching. 

He saw her eyes flicker for a moment to his closed office door, behind which Amy sat drinking champagne and no doubt wearing a smile – that sly, predatory, cat-that-ate-the-canary smile it seemed she always wore, asleep or awake.

Then Donna met his eyes and he saw it, a wave of burning feeling in her blue irises.

She looked squarely at him in a way she never had before – he felt the arousal hit him like a punch to the gut – then spun away, and walked outside to catch a cab home. "See you tomorrow, Josh." Her blonde hair, a golden cloud in the spotlit hallway, shone brilliantly back at him.

He’d stood next to her safely for over three years, noted her sweet pallor in the context of Assistant and none other. It was funny, the way he loved her. Everything about her – mind, heart, words, looks – was combined in a person he trusted implicitly. But he’d never spared a second until then to consider how that pallor might look against his own skin, pushing and clutching. Grabbing onto him with an unspoken need that he’d match and surpass, as he drew her higher within in the circle of his arms.

He cleared his throat and walked back into his office.

Incidentally, that was also the night he bedded Amy for the first time. It was while he was pushing himself into her, pausing to savor the feeling and negotiate with her wetness, that his senses suddenly and inexplicably filled themselves with Donna. He could swear he heard her throaty voice in his ear, a flash of gold behind his eyelids. 

Meanwhile Amy had thrust her head back on the pillow, looking and sounding almost theatrical. She had everything to prove to him, he realized even as he moaned with the sensation of her pulsing heat against his cock. And Donna had nothing to prove, but everything to give.

That was why she wrote down his messages, talked to him every day, picked up his dry-cleaning and went home alone every night. She was trying to love him in the best way she could, in the only way she could. And he’d never noticed or cared until right then.

But nothing could come of it – that conclusion was ready in his mind. It was a no-brainer. There was Amy, whom he liked just fine, and then there were their jobs, and Josh figured it would probably go away on its own.

*

One day, though. One day something else happened.

The day itself was ordinary enough; he’d expected this when he arrived at the office and first saw her outfit. She wore a loose-fitting black pantsuit with a red turtleneck: very normal, very classic Donna. (Thinking about it later, he wondered just when he’d come to associate the length and pace of the day with her clothing; it seemed odd that it had come about without him noticing.) She moved willowishly within her cotton confines, sweeping across the bullpen to grab this folder and that file. When she stepped to the doorway of his office in response to her shouted name, her eyes were on the stapler she was deftly refilling.

"There are interns for that, Donna. In fact, there’s probably an intern somewhere whose specific job it is to fill the staplers."

"Staple Aide for the Office of the Deputy Chief of Staff?"

"Exactly."

"It’s a stapler, Josh. It takes five seconds."

"I’m just saying, you’re senior here. There are better ways you could be spending your time."

"I’m senior?"

"Relatively."

"Hmm...flattery." She glared at him penetratingly. "This is leading somewhere I’m not going to like, isn’t it?"

"C’mere," Josh said, with a winning smile, and she walked to him cautiously. "Here."

He handed her a memo. Donna leaned against his desk as she read it, very close to his chair. It took Josh a few seconds to realize his eyes were fixed on her bare wrist right above the sleeve. Something about the way it was flexing, the paleness against her black suit jacket—

"You’re sending me to the hill for a staff organizational meeting? All day?"

He winced, and stood up. Time to do their dance. "Well, they want a representative from the White House present."

"Yes, for PR purposes only. You could send the staple intern and they’d be happy!"

"But I need you to be there."

"Why?"

"Because I need you to come back afterward and brief me."

"On senate support staff changes?" She stood up straight and regarded him with deep suspicion. "Josh..."

"Senator Feinstein," he said after a pause.

"You’re meeting with her tomorrow and you want a read on her mood." Donna looked disbelieving, and crossed her arms.

Josh just waited it out.

"You’re asking me to spend eight hours in a room with seventeen majority aides," she continued, incensed, "all of whom got jobs only after their good-old-boy fathers pulled strings, and who only stop with their macho posturing long enough to hit on me? - which, now that I think about it, is just more macho posturing? And all because their boss will be in the room for five minutes at the start?!"

"Well, it’s not going to be any fun if you look at it that way."

"Josh!"

"C’mon, it’s a light day. What were you doing out there, sorting mail?"

"I knew you didn’t mean it when you called me senior," she mumbled.

"Seriously, what are you doing?"

"Booking you on seven flights over the next three weeks and then studying up on our issues calendar. Index cards that will save your ungrateful hide, Josh."

"Oh."

"And Bonnie was gonna buy me lunch ‘cause I set her up with a guy she likes."

"Ah," said Josh ingratiatingly, "that Donna magic."

"I’m immensely talented when it comes to the affairs of others. You know that about me."

"Yes. Unfortunately, I need you to employ those talents in a conference room with Feinstein forty-five minutes from now."

"What am I supposed to do, Josh, drop your name and take notes if she starts belching fireballs?"

"You’ll think of something."

"Humph."

"Donna, it’s important. She’s a swing vote, she’ll take four others with her, and she could be the deciding factor. Probably will be." She was frowning and looking impassive, but he knew he had her anyway. "Healthcare, Donna. Healthcare for millions of American children."

She exhaled and he watched the tension leave her face.

"I know it’s a lot to ask." Josh cracked a smile, his most irresistible brand. "But I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important."

Donna glanced down at the memo, which contained the meeting’s hour and location, then back up at him. She was barely shorter that he was, enough so to look at him through her eyelashes. "Okay, boss," she said, her voice playfully submissive. "I’ll do it."

And once again, an unbelievable wave of lust erupted inside him, so powerful it left him wide-eyed and speechless.

He struggled to compose his features, but not quickly enough. Already she was looking at him with concern, tucking her hair behind her ear. "Josh...you okay?"

"Yeah." He watched her lean forward slightly in confusion. Now he was experiencing another new thing: the overwhelming need to pull her against him.

"All right," Donna said finally, and grabbed the stapler again. But because she was still inspecting him closely, she noticed when his eyes traced the line of her jaw and dipped down lower, noticed when he clutched the edge of his desk in an effort to control himself. Her expression turned uncertain.

He cursed himself. Get her out of the room, was his first coherent thought. "I’ve...gotta make a call," he improvised poorly.

"Okay," she said slowly, and gestured toward the door. "I’m just going to—"

"Yeah." He looked at the space between them, down and away from the question in her eyes.

*

Despite other occasional tension-filled moments, things ran smoothly in the Deputy Chief of Staff’s office for some time.

Until one night, when something went wrong.

It was her thirtieth birthday, or, as Donna had been snapping at him all day, a complete non-event undeserving of any sort of recognition. "I really hoped that you were going to let this go," she hissed at him from her desk as a delivery boy approached carrying a giant bunch of flowers. When the man turned out to be delivering a singing telegram as well as the flowers, the look she gave him was one of pure venom.

So, Josh had an extremely cross assistant on his hands for the remainder of the day. The only thing he could think of to melt her iciness was an offer to buy her many, many drinks after work.

"It’s the least you can do," she sniffed, and picked up her coat – but he saw a smile tease the corners of her mouth. Ha. Did he know her or what?

Later, at a place nearby that they both liked, Donna melted the rest of the way. He found he liked that he could charm her, liked that she charmed him back in ways that were absolute and wholly unexpected.

But when she leaned back slightly, and brushed fine-spun strands of hair away from her slim neck, it occurred to Josh for the first time that getting drunk with Donna might no longer be a very good idea.

It was too easy, though, to keep sipping his beer, keep watching her in the dim light.

They took a cab back to her place; neither was very drunk, but both were still unable to drive. It had started raining, and as they ran for her door and the drops dampened their hair, Donna offered her couch to him. He accepted.

Second mistake of the evening.

Josh’s third mistake was taking her offered hand when he slipped on the front steps. It felt soft and cool in his own. His fourth mistake was not letting go.

"Nora," she whispered as she pushed open her front door, and there was no answer. "She must be over at Dan’s. C’mere, the cats won’t hurt you."

It was dark, so he stayed close to her as they shuffled inside. Mistake number five – because Donna smelled amazing.

She flipped on the floor lamp and that possibly counted as the sixth mistake, though it wasn’t technically his fault. But when light flooded the room, and he saw the raindrops clinging to her shining blonde hair, her blue eyes smiling at him above a loose white ‘laundry day’ blouse, his heart stopped.

All he knew, as he closed the distance between them in three steps and pressed her long, lithe arms against the wall, was that she needed to be under his hands, in his arms. And then his lips found hers.

Donna responded immediately, gasping in air and then moaning low against his mouth. It was as if she’d lit a fuse. Josh knew then with complete certainty that anything he did, she would welcome. And so he touched her.

Her breasts, soft and firm, under her damp blouse.

Her stomach and hips, curving perfectly as he explored them.

Then she spoke his name; it passed mostly as breath between her lips.

He needed to be able to touch all of her at once - the whole standing thing wasn’t working for him. But then she bit down on his ear, her desire just as rough and urgent as his own, and every thought fled him but removing her clothes as quickly as possible.

It wasn’t easy, but Donna helped him. Seams were strained, and more than a few buttons popped off in the process. Her blouse, parted in front, revealed a bra that was fire-engine red and a stomach that was ridiculous in its feminine perfection.

"Josh," she groaned, as he licked a circle around her navel.

The skirt was easy – he just pushed it up over her hips. "Get them off," she murmured to him, meaning the panties, and he tugged them down swiftly.

They were a matching red, and damp with her arousal. As soon as Josh felt them he groaned, and brought his hand up to test her sex – it came away soaking wet. He pushed two fingers into her and Donna nearly screamed.

"Pants," she managed, and worked her fingers at the button of his fly. She grazed his mammoth erection through the fabric inadvertently, then again, very purposefully. He groaned.

His pants fell to the floor, then his boxers. And then she was sighing at the sight of his naked cock, fully erect, twitching under her gaze.

"Fuck me," she hissed, and lifted a leg.

He caught it and, without missing a beat, his cock found her aching sex. He thrust in, shouting just as she did.

"Jesus Christ," he hissed. "Donna, you’re so tight."

"God...it feels so good." Her words hitched as a pleasure-filled sob stole her breath.

He pushed her hands up to the wall again, thrust back into her heat.

"Donnatella," he panted.

Neither of them knew how long they fucked like that against the wall. It was a whirlwind, a tornado of sexual desire and, as time passed, a rising tide of emotion.

At one point Josh slowed down to watch her closely. Donna’s eyes were squeezed shut and her mouth had fallen open, lost to the pleasure. Her cries were climbing in pitch and frequency.

The sexiest, most erotic sight of his life.

She was close to coming, he could tell. And then she started to whisper it. "Josh, I’m going to—oh God—"

Josh pulled out of her then, and she heaved a cry of disappointment. He grinned and took her hand.

"Bedroom time," he said.

Pushing back into her was even hotter somehow, once he was on top of her, their bodies resting on the soft mattress. Donna wailed her pleasure. "Oh, Josh...I’m still right there...."

Short, rapid strokes. He pounded against her aching clit, watched her come apart. "Say my name, Donna. Say my name when you come."

She did him one better, and screamed it. "JOOOSSSHHHH!!!!" Her inner walls fluttered, massaged him. He pushed all the way in and watched tears spill onto her cheeks, as he kept pressure on that most sensitive of spots.

"Oh," Donna muttered then, her eyelids fluttering. "Jesus Christ."

It didn’t take him long after that, not with the way she rocked against him, cooing how good he felt, how hot he was, how much she wanted him to come. When he spilled into her, she sighed with satisfaction.

There and then Josh decided he wanted to hear that sound every night for the rest of his natural life.

When he’d scooped Donna into his arms minutes later, and they lay naked on top of the covers together, he felt breath against his ear as she asked him a question.

"How exactly did that happen just now?"

Josh smiled, and pulled her tighter. He’d had time to reconsider the situation.

"Something went right," he whispered back. "Something finally went right."

*

End! Hope you liked. 


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